Italy is a country in which great weight is given to symbols. Coded allusions are everywhere, and it is no coincidence that the most celebrated Italian modern novel, Umberto Eco's The Name of the Rose, should have been written by a professor of semiotics.

Rarely have Italians been quite so preoccupied with symbols as in the run-up to this Christmas as they wrestle with how to adapt to the reality of an increasingly multi-ethnic - and multi-religious - society. Nowhere is the increasing heterogeneity of Italy more apparent than in its schools.

At the last count, there were 282,000 students of immigrant origin - up from just 30,000 in 1993. That represents 3.5% of the total, a tiny proportion when compared to countries such as Britain or France, perhaps, but enough to have made many teachers ask questions about how and whether they should be celebrating Christmas.

At the end of November, it emerged that in a number of schools in the province of Vicenza, in the north-east of the country, it had been decided not to do many of the festive things normally done at this time of year. Out of respect for the growing number of non-Christian pupils, there was to be no dressing of Christmas trees, no carol services and - this was what really set off the controversy - no cribs.

The crib is the Italian Christmas symbol par excellence. Trees and turkeys are relatively modern, imported customs, but the building of models depicting the scene at the birth of Christ has a history in Italy stretching back to at least the 13th century.

Amid spluttering outrage from some politicians, especially on the right, the newspaper Corriere della Sera published a front-page editorial written by its Arab affairs specialist pointing out that there was really nothing in a crib to offend a Muslim. Quoting from the Koran, he stressed the reverence accorded in Islam to Jesus and the Virgin Mary.

Nowhere is the tradition of crib-building more deeply ingrained in the local culture than in Naples, where it often reaches the level of an artform. Yet here, too, there was talk of making adjustments to take account of changing times.

The head of a school with a high proportion of immigrant students announced that a crib would be built, but that this year it would be of a special, multi-ethnic sort. Several of the figures would be manifestly Middle Eastern or far eastern in appearance.

Since Jesus was born in the Middle East, anyway, and the Magi were said by St Matthew to be "wise men from the east", this could be seen as no more than a step towards greater historical authenticity. The crib controversy began to fade.

But it was almost immediately replaced by another, equally symbolic, dispute, again involving schools and children. At Como near Milan it was decided to introduce a change into the Christmas play. Instead of singing "this is the day of Jesus" (Gesu in Italian), it was decided that the children should chant "this is the day of virtue" (virtu). Same rhyme, but with a very different meaning.

In much the same spirit, at Treviso, near Venice, a representation of the nativity was dropped altogether in favour of a performance of Little Red Riding Hood. The school authorities said the new play would involve the pupils, but "without offending anyone's sensibilities".

The question that remains to be answered is whether anyone stood to be offended by the traditional Christian celebrations that it was proposed to alter or cancel. The one voice that has been almost wholly absent in the rows over cribs, carols and Christmas plays is that of the outraged immigrant children or parents. On the contrary, one of Italy's most senior imams said the teachers in these cases had been "too zealous". Abdel Hamid Shaari, of the Islamic Cultural Institute of Milan, said: "It is good to be sensitive and I am grateful to them all, but traditions that have existed for 2000 years need to be maintained and respected."

Some Muslims have argued that it is inappropriate for crucifixes to hang in Italian classrooms. But there is by no means a consensus on the issue and it is at least as much of a concern for non-believers.

Earlier this week, the constitutional court handed down a ruling saying there was no law stipulating the crucifix should be displayed. But it did so, not at the request of a Muslim, Buddhist or Hindu, but at that of an atheist - a woman who was born in Finland and is married to an Italian.